Advantage
by Late2SGA
Summary: Sheppard is having a very bad day - he goes missing during a recon mission, a victim of kidnapping. Who wants him and why? Team fic.
1. Chapter 1

~ Advantage ~

Author's Note: This is not exactly my usual kind of story. Be sure to read the Author's Note at the end of this chapter!

Word Count, Chapter 1: 4698

Takes place when Woolsey is in charge.

Characters: Sheppard, Rodney, Teyla, Ronon, Lorne.

Rating: K+/T- for older-than-kindergarten theme. Minor language.

Disclaimer: 'Stargate Atlantis' and its characters are not mine. I would not have left them under the aegis of those whose interest lay elsewhere.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

CRUNCH!

_Whoa, that was close!_ Instinct, quick reflexes and years of training had saved John Sheppard ~ he woke, rolled to his side and up to his feet, and backed into shadow while reaching for his sidearm. _Where the hell's my weapon? Crap, where's my vest and P-90?_ He glanced at the spot where he had just lain ~ where the end of a wooden club had smashed onto the rocky ground. One second slower..._and I'd be goo_.

With his body tensed in a fighting stance John watched his attacker shift from foot to foot ~ a threatening gesture and the only movement discernible in the gloom. John kept his eye on the dirty feet while check-listing his predicament ~ where he was: _cave?_; how he got there: _no idea_; physical assessment: pain at his left temple ~ _helluva headache_ ~ and right ankle ~ _can barely stand_. 'Flight' was not an option, which left 'fight'.

He was sizing up his opponent and had to second-guess himself ~ his attacker might be female...ish. The visible facial features were sort of feminine, but dirt and filth and layers of hides and fur made it difficult to be certain; stocky build, toned muscle and shaggy hair looked more male-ish. Human-ish male-ish.

Rodney had said there were miles of cave warrens stretching along mountain ridges, home to pockets of human lifeforms. _Human "lifeforms"?_ McKay considered the mission a waste of his 'valuable' time, despite the energy reading. He'd snorted about the film 'One Million Years B.C.' and likened the planet to the Stone Age, with no indication of technological interest or even "actual civilization". John studied his assailant's prehistoric-like appearance and behavior. _"Stone Age" was right._

Whatever the gender, she– 'it' was wielding a large branch, fashioned into a club that had nearly clobbered him. Female or no, he would defend himself. She– 'It' hadn't said a word. He heard heavy breathing, but no words. _No language barrier, just no language_. _Not gonna talk yourself out of this one, John._

His pondering came to an abrupt end ~ he jumped sidewise, to avoid being whacked by the cudgel, and stumbled on the uneven ground. He fell backwards and grunted ~ sharp rocks jabbed painfully into his ribs and kidney. _Sonuvabitch_.

His attacker pounced and pressed the club to his throat. John couldn't breathe; his vision grayed at the sides. He pulled his left knee to his chest, lifted his foot up under her/its body and managed to fling her backward over himself. He gasped to regain his breath as he studied her; she'd gone down, but quickly recovered her footing. They both saw the club ~ equidistant from their two positions ~ and dove for it. _Too late_ ~ his fingers grasped air, then the club slammed down on his outstretched forearm.

A howl escaped his clenched teeth and he held his arm at his chest while preparing to rise. A glancing blow struck his shoulder and he went down, bracing himself with his uninjured hand. The club was raised for another blow. On his knees he reached up, gripped the wood in his good hand and followed the movement down, twisting to wrench the club free from his assailant.

With the club in hand he swung in a wide arc and caught his opponent on the thigh ~ the cry was definitely feminine. _That settles that._ He was pulling for breath. _Gotta end this_. He lashed out, missed, and the club struck the wall and splintered. The battle continued sans weapons, a contest of skill and determination. His skill, especially what he'd learned from Teyla and Ronon, was superior, but injuries were slowing him down. And she instinctively knew it; her every strike was aimed at his leg, arm and head. He'd scored a few times ~ _Damn, she's quick_ ~ but pain was taking a toll; his moves were growing sloppy and he was unable to block more and more of her hits. He swayed on his feet, his vision doubled, and her blow took him down.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

John woke carefully. _How long have I been out? _He saw only stone walls in low light. He was lying on a stinking, fur-padded, uncomfortable surface, covered by a smelly fur rug. He shifted ~ mild concussion, sprained ankle, aching, bruised body. And his wrists were bound in front of him with vines.

His host ~ _make that hostess_ ~ moved into his field of vision. When she saw he was awake she beat her fisted hands against her chest and started the foot-shifting thing again, like a kind of victory dance after nearly killing him. A feral smile grew on her face. John wondered if he were to be dinner. Maybe she was waiting for others of her kind. _Great. A dinner party..._

Any human-inhabited planets the team had visited were advanced enough to be reasonably civilized ~ language, certainly; villages or even large cities; some technology, even modern science. This planet, although near other, more-developed worlds, had only a spacegate; there was no evidence the Wraith had ever visited. Being isolated from other worlds had perhaps slowed the development of the population compared to other planets.

Rodney'd been right. '_One Million Years B.C.' I'll bet even he hadn't expected actual cave people._ John's hostess discarded an outer layer of bulky furs. Instead of Raquel Welch, the luscious cavewoman in a skimpy outfit, he was stuck with Frederica Flintstone in a fright wig. _And no basic hygiene._

The victory dance dragged on. Raquel was grunting and shifting her feet and beating her chest with her fists. _If we're playing charades, the answer's 'King Kong'._ John wondered if enough time had passed that Woolsey had sent a rescue Jumper. Tiredly he muttered, "Fred Astaire you are not."

He had a fleeting hope she actually understood him because she stopped, still, and stared at him, then she suddenly launched herself at him; the odor of unwashed body and filthy hides was stomach-turning. She slapped him about his head and shoulders and tried to stick her fingers in his mouth while he clamped his lips and used tied hands to maintain her distance. The attack ended abruptly; she moved off him. _That'll teach you to keep your mouth shut. C'mon, John, you can think your way out of this._

He had a headache and nausea, he was drowsy and probably suffering from shock. He couldn't keep his eyes open. His last thought was the hope that rescue arrived before mealtime.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

The rescue team passed through the spacegate only two minutes after Richard Woolsey officially declared Sheppard's team missing. The colonel's mission was expected to be straight-forward _and short_ ~ preliminary investigation of a possible energy source on a primitive planet. It wasn't expected to take more than a couple hours to determine if further personnel and resources should be assigned for a complete study. The Jumper assured the probability of being stranded or endangered was minimal, yet Sheppard's team had missed their mission check-in, had failed to check in before Atlantis attempted contact as dictated by protocol, and Woolsey had not waited for a second late period. Lorne had been alerted at the first missed check-in, and the major's team left when Woolsey made the 'missing' status official.

As the rescue ship entered the planet's atmosphere Lorne called up the HUD. A thick plume of ash spewed from a volcano in the distance. Lieutenant Gordon informed Lorne an intermittent Jumper signature was registering, but no subcutaneous transmitters. Still cloaked they flew low and slow toward the Jumper, which they could see had crashed, leaving a path of destruction in the dense foliage directed away from the mountain.

"Colonel Sheppard, this is Major Lorne. Come in."

There were no open spaces to land and no life signs near the downed ship, which meant Sheppard's team had left the Jumper and was out of range, or, they had not survived the crash.

"Sir, the interference is greater here. It's intermittent and affecting the sensors. Scanners aren't functioning properly."

Lorne nodded. "Colonel Sheppard, this is Major Lorne. Do you read?" He looked over at Gordon. "Try to boost the comm signal. See if we can reach their radios." He looked back at the rest of the rescue team. "The crash doesn't look that bad, so see if you guys can glimpse anything ~ alive or otherwise."

The major followed a standard search pattern, periodically trying to hail Sheppard's team. Within twenty minutes, as the heavily treed foothills were giving way to more open grassland, three life signs intermittently registered on the HUD.

"Colonel Sheppard, this is Major Lorne. Do you read?"

"Major! It's about time somebody came to get us! It's freezing, and, oh, gee, we forgot to pack for the unexpected polar winds and volcano eruptions," Rodney McKay responded, and after a brief pause he continued with some concern, "Wait! Why are you here? Where's Sheppard? What's going on?"

"Doc, slow down. Why isn't Colonel Sheppard with you?"

"He took off and left us here," came the snarky reply.

As the Jumper approached the three life signs' location the signal became more steady. "I have a visual. There's a flat space just east of your position," Lorne reported. "Meet us there."

The Jumper touched down and Lorne released the rear hatch and waited for Sheppard's team to arrive. As they approached he greeted them with "Why isn't Colonel Sheppard with you? How long has he been gone?" He paused. "Sorry. Are you all okay?"

Teyla smiled in understanding. "Thank you, Major. We are all fine. Colonel Sheppard dropped us off when we arrived. He headed out for a 'quick flyby' over the area while we three were to search for the energy source. He expected to return very quickly, but we have had no word since he left us here. We are concerned he may have been near the volcano when it erupted."

Lorne frowned. "We found the Jumper ~ crashed about twelve klicks to the south. There were no life signs in the area and we were unable to land due to the dense forest. We'll go back and send ropes to the ground to check it out."

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

John woke abruptly. He opened his eyes to find the too-near face of unkempt cavewoman and the distinct accompanying odor. He felt Raquel prod him again ~ energetically and painfully. He was about to protest when she swiftly rose and walked away.

His gaze followed her to a corner of the cave, where she was mixing something on a hide. She spit a glob of green goo into the mixture and stirred it with a stick. She loaded her mouth with leaves, chewed, and added another masticated glob.

He looked around the stone shelter. A small fire was burning near the rear and dim daylight filtered through the low entrance. A rescue team should find him soon, although as he'd approached the mountain, the HUD had been acting up. If the rescue Jumper experienced the same difficulties, his team might not be able to find him via sensors. 'Course Ronon could track him.

He'd managed to bring the Jumper down 'safely' after the volcano blew and then he'd lost control when he ran into a dense cloud of frightened birds. He'd skimmed the treetops but come down hard. The console was damaged and he'd lost comms ~ radio had been spotty even before that. No power, so he'd left the Jumper, limping back toward the drop-off point, all the while feeling as if he were being watched... And then nothing, until he woke up in the cave and Raquel was trying to kill him.

Raquel sat back on her heels, evidently finished with her task. She scraped some of the green pulpy mixture onto a large leaf and approached him, goo in hand.

_Uh, if that's lunch, I think I'll pass._ His head ached, he was still queasy, his arm and ankle were killing him and even if the fare had been more appetizing, he wasn't hungry. He tightened his lips and watched her come to kneel beside him, setting the loaded leaf on the ground. He firmed his expression ~ _No Way._

She looked at him steadily, stuck a finger in goo, and moved a hand toward his head. He drew back and raised his tied wrists in a manner to fend her off, but she slapped his arms down, which hurt and made him hiss, and directed the goo-covered finger to the cut at his temple that he'd acquired in the crash. _Ohh-kaay. Not trying to kill me now._ The goo stung, but it had a minty, sort-of menthol odor that produced a cooling-and-numbing effect. He watched her warily while she went about her business ham-handedly. _You're not Florence Nightingale, either._

She spread goo on his forearm, then she prodded him to find other sore spots. He tried to maintain a stoic mien while she poked him, but a hint of pain made her stop. The fabric of his uniform overblouse briefly fascinated her, then she pulled and ripped at it with long nails and tore off the sleeve ~ with some skin ~ to reveal a bad gash on his upper arm. _Great. More goo. I smell like a cough drop._ She caressed the bare skin of his arm and then ripped his t-shirt to run her hand over his shoulder. She leaned in close, to run both hands over his chest, and she pulled and tore at his clothing to expose more skin.

He grunted and twisted away to prevent her from exploring further when she scraped energetically at his trouser waistband and zipper. She rose and went to the fire, held up two dead rodent-ish animals and waggled them for him to see. Then she took a rock to skin the beasts, spitted them with sticks, and placed them in the fire._ I think I'd rather eat goo._

His head throbbed lightly and the nausea came and went, his arm did feel better but still, he hoped rescue arrived before mealtime...and before he seriously had to pee.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

Lorne's team plus Ronon dropped ropes from the rescue Jumper and descended to the crash site.

"Sir!" Teyla, Rodney and Lorne were tense, waiting in the hovering Jumper for Gordon's report. "The colonel isn't here. Looks like he hit his head in the crash ~ there's blood on the console, but Ronon says he left on foot. There're some dead... bird-things on the hull. Something hit one of the drive pods, but it's hard to say if it caused the crash. There's no power, but you might have better luck than mine, being a natural gene, sir."

"I doubt it, Lieutenant. If Colonel Sheppard couldn't get any life out of her, I doubt I could. Okay, so we assume the colonel is alive, but injured. I'm still getting nothing on the HUD." He looked to the co-pilot seat, where McKay was punching buttons and scrambling with his laptop. "Doc, you got anything?"

"Whatever's messing up the HUD is a reflection of the energy signal we were sent to investigate" ~ and he turned to look at Teyla, sitting behind Lorne ~ "and which we couldn't find. I told everyone this was a waste of time!" He turned back to face the console. "And, being intermittent, it's nearly impossible to trace. I'm surprised it doesn't affect the Jumper's propulsion, but it's screwing up radio, sensors, life signs, just about everything. We're not going to know where Sheppard is until we're practically on top of him." McKay looked up. "Why wouldn't he just go back to where he dropped us off? Or at least head in that direction, where we thought the energy signal was strongest?"

"Ronon, what more can you tell us?" Lorne asked.

"Sir," Lieutenant Gordon replied, "Ronon's scouting ahead, following the colonel's path. Sergeant Milner went with him."

"I got them!" McKay exclaimed. "It's still intermittent, but I've written a phase algorithm to cancel the interference. It won't be constant, but they should pop up now and then so we can follow the life signs..." He looked up. "Maybe even Sheppard."

"Lieutenant, find Ronon and regroup. We'll follow from up here and broaden the search." Lorne looked back at Teyla. "If he walked out under his own steam, he'll be easy to find. Or there could have been trouble. Do you want to go on foot?"

Only someone who had known her years would see the tension beneath Teyla's calm exterior. "I will stay here for now."

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

John stared at the cave ceiling, considering how many tactics he'd have to employ to avoid sampling Raquel's cuisine, and calculating when rescue would arrive. His team had missed the regular mission check-in and grace period, and knowing Woolsey, the man wouldn't wait for a second one. Which meant boots were already on the ground. Jumper sensors were probably not functioning, which nixed the technological angle, so they'd be doing it the old-fashioned way ~ on foot, with Ronon tracking.

John's head was still tender, but okay; the queasiness had subsided a bit. His ankle was swollen tight in his boot and he knew he could walk on it, albeit slowly. He couldn't reach the pocketknife in his trouser pocket, bound as he was, so, no weapons except rocks, and he figured Raquel was a better rock-fighter, being more experienced and not trussed. He couldn't outrun her, probably couldn't out-fight her and he wasn't sure, but under those hides, he thought she might outweigh him.

Raquel was busy fussing at the fire. He felt her eyes on him periodically, so he kept his gaze averted, but he could hear her grunt as she worked. The cave reeked of furs, Raquel and slightly singed alien muskrat. _This has not been a good day._

Eventually Raquel determined the meal was ready because she pulled the meat from the fire and slid the carcasses from their sticks onto separate leaves. _Oh, joy. I'm guest of honor._

She approached him eagerly and shoved a 'plate' of food at him. He stared at her steadily, mulishly, and didn't move. She grabbed his bound hands and yanked him into a sitting position and placed the food on his lap. She kept grunting, watching him. He briefly pondered tasting the offering to keep the peace, but he just couldn't make roasted rodent pass his lips. He delicately pinched a corner of the leaf and dragged the food off his lap.

Raquel shrieked and grabbed the meat, pulling some stringy strips off the bone. She tried to shove it into his mouth, but he kept her at bay using tied hands and the uninjured foot.

"Cut it out! I don't want Prehistoric Pulled Pork!" he shouted. She stopped and stared at him, intently eyeing his mouth. "And you're not exactly Chef Boyardee," he mumbled.

She screeched and threw the food across the cave, then leapt on him, landing on his chest and straddling him, trapping his hands between them. She slapped at his head and shoulders, then placed her hands over his ears and held his head still while she stared into his eyes. She was breathing and grunting heavily from exertion. _Geez, lady, how 'bout a breath mint?_

She smacked her lips, then ran her fingers over his scalp. She leaned down to sniff at his hair and ear, then she ran her hands over his cheeks. She stroked the beard stubble, then slid her palms down to rub his chest. She tore at his shirts, ripping fabric to expose skin, and worked her way down until she was frustrated by the barrier of his belt. Her grunting increased.

_Oh...cuh-rap._ Wasn't there a joke about primitive man's dating technique ~ hitting his mate over the head with a rock to drag her back to his cave? _The anthropologists have it backwards!_ Raquel hadn't been trying to kill him, just keep him! _If McKay gets wind of this I will never, ever hear the end of Kirk._

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

Teyla left the Jumper to join the ground search when Ronon found a second set of tracks.

"Sheppard has an injury. He's favoring his right leg," Ronon had stated. "He's making good time. Stride's not too uneven, so the injury isn't serious."

Then Ronon found tracks in the brush running vaguely parallel to Sheppard's. He pointed to the second disturbance in the undergrowth. "This one's smaller. Shorter stride."

Then the tracks merged. The rescue team found Sheppard's discarded tac vest and weapons, the fabric of his vest and jacket sliced by repeated cuts. There were no signs of struggle, yet a single trail continued, taking a near-opposite heading to Sheppard's original direction by angling back toward the mountain.

"Prints are deep. He's carrying Sheppard," Ronon announced.

The ground cover and thick forest eventually gave way to bare, gravel-covered terrain at the base of the mountain, making it difficult for even Ronon to find the trail.

"He's strong, to carry a man up this slope. Uneven ground, a lot of loose stones. His feet are covered in a soft material. Probably leather." Ronon looked up the small hill toward the cliff face at the mountain base. Small stones periodically slid down the hill. "Unless he missteps, there won't be a way to track him. Once we're inside, there'll be dirt, prints, scratches."

"And how do we know which one of the numerous holes-in-the-wall he's in? This close to the mountains the interference renders the Jumper sensors useless," Rodney informed everyone on the ground via radio. "I'll have to make adjustments as we go, to counter the strength and phase of the interference. Which means in situ with a hand scanner, especially if he's deep in the caves... How do I get down there?" he wondered aloud.

Lorne answered patiently. "Not to worry, Doc. It's going to be tight and at an awkward angle, but we'll fit on that slope over there, between the cliff and the boulder."

"How appropriate ~ rock and hard place," McKay grumbled.

Lorne gently set the Jumper down in the notch and it listed further to the side. "Watch yourself, Doc." Lorne released the rear hatch. Ronon, Teyla and Lorne's team were waiting to assist the disembarkation. "Okay, people," Lorne enjoined, "let's go find the colonel." The group moved into the network of caverns.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

_No way! _John bucked and twisted to the side, dislodging Raquel to the right while he rolled to the left and came to a stand using the cave wall for support. He tenderly put weight on his right foot and prepared for the next round.

Raquel started the foot-shifting thing, grunting as she ran her palms over her own chest and hips, smacking her lips and swaying while she removed another layer of hides. From his male perspective it was not an enticement ~ she was still more Fred Flintstone than Raquel Welch. _You have got to be kidding me._

He was ready when she rushed him; his shoulder was braced against the wall and when she came at him, he shoved a booted foot into her midsection. She let out a whoosh and fell back. With very little time needed to catch her breath, she came at him with a jump. A sharp kick to her knee would incapacitate, possibly permanently, and he didn't want to hurt her too badly.

She was fast, she came in low, and his kick made a glancing blow at her shoulder. She grabbed his feet and yanked so that he fell backwards, trying to control the fall by grabbing the uneven rock surface of the wall, but he still landed hard, on his side.

His ears were ringing and Raquel was shrieking, sitting on his hip and hitting his chest and back with her fists, slapping at his shoulder. He shook his head, pushed off the ground to roll to his back, then used the heel of his hand to strike a blow directly at her nose. _This would be a lot easier without the vines._

Raquel's neck snapped back, she lost her balance and fell off him, raising her hands to her nose. She screeched at the blood on her fingers and ran over near the fire to grab a rock. She held it in her fist and came toward him, step by step, as he scrambled backwards, pushing with his feet and bound hands, looking for a weapon or a way to make a stand and fight.

If she knocked him senseless and managed to get what she wanted, _what then?_ Would she want companionship or only the fulfillment of an instinctive need? He watched the rock rise as she hefted it and he tensed, waiting for her to come nearer so he could swing his leg out to knock her off her feet. She was shrieking and screeching and then she suddenly crumpled face-first in front of him. The fisted rock landed only an inch from his hip.

John looked up into a strong face and lots of hair. So intent had he been on the skirmish that he'd missed the hum of the blaster discharge. "Geez, 'bout time you guys got here, Chewie."

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

John lay awake in the Atlantis infirmary, thinking about the day. It amazed him that during Raquel's tantrum he'd missed Ronon's entrance. And Teyla's. He'd seen in both their faces that they had understood the situation entirely.

Then Rodney entered the cave, wanting to know what was going on and complaining about the smell. He groused about bending over to pass through the 'front door of Barney Rubble's house' and rambled about intermittent interference and how hard it was to find wayward colonels in geological rat mazes. When he finally looked up from his hand scanner he stopped abruptly and his mouth fell open ~ bruised and battered team leader being helped to his feet, half-clothed 'person' of the female persuasion sprawled on the cave floor. _Rodney McKay, speechless._

To give McKay credit he never mentioned Kirk, but then, John wasn't sure Rodney fully understood what had happened. The physicist did know enough to shuck off his jacket so John had something beside his tattered shirts to face the elements.

Ronon and Teyla had assisted John out of the cave and Lorne's team was waiting to support him through the 'Swiss cheese' of tunnels and complicated light-bringing holes in the caverns before they finally emerged outside in the fresh air.

The trip to the spacegate seemed long to John, who lay, knees up, on a bench in the rear section, his head at Teyla's hip and Ronon at his feet. The rescue team sat across from them, talking in soft voices. All John wanted was a bath, and he knew the enclosed space wasn't pleasant for anyone. Rodney, sitting in the co-pilot seat, had been blunt: "Geez, Sheppard, you reek!"

Keller was keeping John for overnight observation because of the head injury, plus she wanted to monitor his kidney output. He'd objected, but not too strenuously; his arm was painful, his ankle ached and he was covered with bruises. He'd been banged up by the crash and Raquel had done the rest. John wondered if any of her actions went beyond instinct. Could they have communicated? When did instinct merge with higher functions so that eventually one acquired the supreme advantage of reason?

After an hour-long shower John had felt human again. He thought he'd sleep after the team left, but the day's events kept playing in his mind. _All for nothing_ ~ they didn't find an energy source, Rodney couldn't explain the intermittent interference, and the natives would hardly make trading partners. Anthropologists might find the world of interest due to its limited development, but John wasn't returning for any reason. Ronon and Teyla backed him up and Rodney agreed, since he'd never wanted to go anyway. In McKay's opinion neither the planet nor the 'people', if he could call them that, offered anything of value. John considered they had one edge: they weren't yet human enough to be culled. *~*

Author's Note: This story arose from a conversation with sheppardlover928. After discussing the differences in our writing, and as an exercise to "wake up our muses" (both of which have been in hibernation), sheppardlover928 and I decided to "rewrite each other" to see how we would treat the other person's story ~ what would we do with the same material to make it more our own in style and substance?

It was fun to work on a plot I _never_ would have thought of on my own! Since I'm not a graphic whumper I readjusted the focus, and placed the emphasis on overall drama, plus humor to lighten what was originally a very uncomfortable whump tale for poor Sheppard. So, this is my whump-lite twist on "Captivation" by sheppardlover928 [Go check out the original!], who is working on her own rewrite of one of my tales when Life isn't getting in the way. [Keep checking her FF page!]

There is another tag scene (Chapter Two). This is a note to tell people to read no more if they are not John-and-Teyla fans. The story can end here and it is complete as a dramatic tale. Stop here, if you do not want to read ship stuff.

Thanks to sheppardlover928 for the source material.

Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Author's Note: This is a Sheyla ending that takes place in the same scene and setting as the previous paragraph. The story takes place S7-ish, so Torren is a toddler. In the timeline of my stories John & Teyla would get together near the end of S6 ('Hurdles'), and this story would occur in S7, after 'Calculated Risk' and before 'All In A Day'.

There is another Author's Note at the end of this chapter.

Word Count: 235

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

Light footfalls interrupted John's reverie.

"You are very pensive," Teyla commented as she approached.

His answering smile was brief. "I'm glad you're here."

"I knew you would be awake." She took his hand.

"How's TJ?" John rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

"He knows you were injured in the Jumper and that you will be fine. He plans to 'help you' move back home tomorrow." She smiled and squeezed his hand. "I have been hearing a great deal about Raquel Welch. I have even seen a photograph."

"Rodney," John nodded. "Photo? 'One Million Years B.C.'?"

Teyla smiled. "I can understand your interest in cavewomen."

"Yeah, right." He stared solemnly into the distance.

She patted his hand. "Rodney has decided that just this once he was glad not to be the one abducted by the female alien."

John looked at her. "Well, 'my' Raquel was a pretty good cook." He grinned when Teyla swatted at him. "Okay, okay. Your tuttle-root soup is better than her roasted muskrat."

She gravely studied him. "I well understand her interest in you." She looked sly and pulled a fist-sized rock from her pocket, then she grinned and bounced it in her hand.

It took John a moment. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

Teyla nodded once and smiled. "I think it is time Torren has a sibling..." And she laughed as he drew her down to him. *~*

Author's Note: The original story takes place when Weir is in charge. I wrote this epilogue to lighten the overall effect of the story. Because I did want to lighten it, I purposely chose a time when John would have someone at his side if he needed to confide and share. Since in my story, 'All In A Day', Teyla was pregnant, I thought this would be a good time to have John and Teyla make an active decision to enlarge their family.

Thanks for reading.


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